Chapter 17
The world came back to Hannah in blurry flickers.
The smell of dirt came to her senses first, and then dappled light.
She was somewhere with trees… Before her mind could piece anything more together, the back of her head throbbed with pain.
And that’s when the memories came back to her, of her bath, of Alan in his unkempt state, of him springing a fist back before everything went black.
Alan.
Her eyes went wide and she blinked until the blurry edges of her vision cleared.
She was somewhere in the forest, with tree canopies overhead and stone walls surrounding the plot of dirt.
Ivy and moss overtook the stones and the dirt patch she was on was mostly covered in weeds.
It looked like an abandoned camp… Or a castle returned to rubble and forgotten about.
The wind passed over her, making her entire body shiver.
Her eyes went wide again as she remembered how Alan had dragged her naked out of the tub.
Looking down at herself, however, she found that she was in a thin shift.
It was doing nothing more than protecting a shred of her dignity, and was useless against the cold.
She went to hug herself, but found herself straining against rope that was about her wrists behind her back.
“Our little pet is awake, Eunan,” Alan snickered from nearby.
Her head whipped around, watching as Alan approached her with his stride nothing more than a saunter.
She glanced over his shoulder to see a face that fell into place as soon as she saw it.
His dark green eyes, his crooked nose, and a mop of sandy brown hair.
He had only been a flash of a face then, but she knew he had been the man in the village the other day.
Alan’s man—the one that Magnus believed he was returning to town to capture.
The fact that she was there with them, bound and waiting, made her realize she wasn’t the target, but the bait in a much more elaborate trap set for Magnus.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded, putting as much bite in her voice as she could.
“Little pet,” Alan tutted, smirking down as he stood right over her.
“That’s simply none of yer damn business.
Be a good little pet and keep quiet.” His eyes then raked down her body and Hannah felt far too exposed under that gaze, longing to hide herself.
He had seen her in a state of undress, and even fully naked, many times; yet it never made his gaze any more tolerable to her.
Each glance felt like she was being dissected.
“Magnus is your brother!” Hannah snapped. She hadn’t any idea what Alan was planning to do to Magnus, but she knew it couldn’t be anything short of horrific. It was Alan, after all, and he was going to such great lengths to make it all happen.
Alan spat on the ground next to her face. “Dinnae say that wretched usurper’s name to me again,” he hissed. “That ungrateful brat will learn today that he should have never taken what is mine.”
“The Lairdom? The King ordered it! Because of you and your actions!” Hannah yelled.
The next sound from her was a yelp as Alan’s boot collided with her side.
“Did I nae tell ye to be fucking quiet?” he hissed.
He kicked her again, with enough force that time that Hannah rolled onto her side involuntarily.
He crouched down then and fisted her hair again, pulling at the roots as he forced her to look at him.
There was danger and vitriol swimming in his dark eyes.
“That bastard took my lairdom and my bride. He will pay and I will take back what is rightfully mine.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. Of course he was planning to keep her after he killed Magnus and she didn’t think she could envision a worse future for herself. Desperately, she blurted, “It doesn’t matter. I’m already married to Magnus. I’m already his.”
“Careful with yer next words, pet,” he snarled as he forced her face closer to his. She could smell the sweat and stench emanating from him, making her stomach twist as her heart plummeted in fright. “Wouldn’t want ye to lie to me and end up dead. My bride will be pure.”
Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. He was saying he would kill her for confessing she had already bedded Magnus. Her choice was to lie and live, or be truthful and die. Honestly, she thought that the path of honesty seemed more appealing at that moment.
Death itself would be better than having to spend a second as Alan’s wife.
Hooves.
Hooves that were rapidly approaching with hollers of encouragement echoing behind them. Her heart leapt into her throat as she knew exactly who it would be. “Mag—!”
Her voice was cut off by Alan stuffing a piece of cloth inside her mouth, his fingers prying at her teeth as he hoarsely whispered to her, “Shut the fuck up!”
Alan then looked to Eunan and nodded his head to the side, ordering him to hide from sight without a single word needed.
Hannah screamed against the fabric in her mouth, needing to warn Magnus to stay away.
But it was no use, the words only came out in mangled muffled sounds.
And within seconds, a horse leapt over the low stone wall with a furious Magnus on its back.
He looked like a true warrior as he brought the horse to an abrupt stop, the horse standing on its back legs and kicking the air in the front.
Magnus stayed stoic and furious through the motions, his eyes locked onto Alan and Hannah.
As soon as the horse steadied, Magnus slid down, drawing his sword from his hip.
Hannah screamed into the fabric, her body thrashing to try and free herself just enough to tell him to go away.
Death was certain for her now that she was back in Alan’s clutches, but he could still walk away.
Magnus’s eyes fell to her, his face hardening even more at the sight of her there, in the dirt in nothing but her shift.
“Little brother,” Alan grinned as he stood straight to face Magnus. “My, I see all those years away did ye good. Such a strapping young fellow. Would never be able to tell by looking at ye that ye used to squirm under my boot in this very arena.”
Magnus’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “Let her go, Alan. Let’s settle this between the two of us.”
Alan tutted with a condescending chuckle. “I’m afraid I cannae do that, dear brother. After all, I’m only taking back what is mine.”
“She’s my wife,” Magnus barked. It made Hannah’s heart patter fondly to hear those words, even though she wanted to scream at him for sticking around.
“That ye stole,” Alan hissed. “Maither taught ye better than to play with toys that dinnae belong to ye. Perhaps I should refresh yer memory of that lesson.”
When Magnus took another step forward, a shing of a blade sounded right by Hannah’s ear.
Tilting her head up, she saw the tip of a blade angled at her head, mere inches from her face.
“Ah, ah. Dinnae make me feel threatened, little brother. Ye ken how I get when I’m nervous,” he chuckled.
It was the same sickening snicker he had back in the dungeon when he toyed with her. This all really was a game to him.
“Stop,” Magnus said, though his feet remained rooted in place. “Just… Deal with me. Nae her.”
“Oh? Fond of my pet, are ye?” Alan cooed.
He touched the blade to the tip of her chin, angling her face back at him as he assessed her.
“A delicious little English delicacy. And here I thought their country was useless.” His eyes then flickered back to Magnus, deadly intent shining in the almost black eyes.
Magnus’s eyes had always reminded her of the soft light of twilight, and Alan’s right then were the deepest parts of the sea where nothing but krakens and sharks lived and no light reached.
The sword flicked down, grazing the thin fabric of her shift without actually touching her skin.
Hannah lay perfectly still, fearing that the slightest movement would make the blade pierce her.
Alan’s eyes followed the movements as he dragged the tip of his weapon between her breasts and worked toward her navel.
“I cannae shake the feeling ye’ve sampled what is mine,” Alan called to his brother. He let out a sigh, as though he was exhausted at the concept. “I’m afraid I cannae simply let that go. As much as I want to, since we are brothers and such.”
“Stop spouting yer nonsense and fight me!” Magnus bellowed. “It’s what all this is for, right? To lure me here alone and fight me for the lairdom, for Hannah. Then do it.”
Alan chuckled darkly and withdrew the blade from Hannah’s shift, stepping over her and toward Magnus.
“My sweet brother. Always ready to answer with yer fists instead of yer mind. Truly, I’m impressed ye’ve managed the clan this long.
I thought it would have gone belly up by end of the first week, since there’s nothing more than rocks rattling about in that head of yers. ”
Magnus glared, his posture fixed, as though he thought the slightest movement would provoke Alan into an action that he couldn’t predict. There was a long, tense silence that Alan’s light laughter finally broke. “Nothing to say?”
“I will nae waste my energy on sparring with a madman verbally. Fight me—the winner gets the clan,” Magnus said firmly.
“And Hannah,” Alan grinned. It made a shiver run down her spine and her eyes flickered to Magnus.
“She is nae a commodity to be won like this,” Magnus snapped.
“Right now, dear brother, she is,” Alan chuckled. “Now what shall it be?”
Magnus’s gaze bounced between Alan and Hannah before his gaze stopped for a moment on the sword in Alan’s hand. “Fine,” he said. “But no weapons. Toss the sword away.”
Alan sighed like he was bored and hurled the sword to the side, Hannah watched the blade clatter to the ground several strides away. “My, I thought all yer time at battle would have made ye braver than this. Scared, little brother?”